


Distraction

by blustersquall



Series: Fenris x Kestrel Hawke [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age II
Genre: Couple, Desk Sex, F/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3649638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blustersquall/pseuds/blustersquall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Champion, Hawke has a lot more on her plate to keep her busy and fill her time. Fenris is an excellent distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt I received on the tumblrs:
> 
> “Prompt for Kestrel and Fenris - I’m so bad at prompts. Kestrel trying to do something and Fenris distracting her…possibly ending in some groping and a kiss.”  
> My initial thought was for this to end just with groping. But… my brain went a bit mad and you get full blown smut instead.

He hears her grunt and the scrunching of paper as she discards another letter and tosses the crumbled ball vaguely towards the corner of her room. It lands amongst the other failed attempts at responding to letters.

Kestrel pushes her hands through her hair, grumbling under her breath. Fenris approaches her desk and slips his hands onto her shoulders having climbed the stairs after listening to her cursing and complaining for the last hour or more from the main reception room.

He moves his thumbs in circles at the base of her neck. She tilts her head forward, mumbling.

"Problems?"

"I can’t write for shit."

Fenris chuckles. “Why’s that?” He skirts his fingers over the fabric of her house robe and underneath so he is touching her skin directly. He presses harder into her tight muscles, rotating steadily in an attempt to help her work out her discomfort.

"How do you politely tell someone offering you a marriage proposal to drop dead? That you’d rather kiss a nug than marry a wet, Orlesian nobleman?" Asks Kestrel, tilting her head back. Fenris notices she has smears of ink across her forehead and down her cheek. It would look foolish, if it wasn’t endearing.

"Is that what you’re being asked?" He bends and kisses her temple.

"Third marriage proposal this week." She sighs and leans her head back into his belly. "I don’t understand it. It’s not like you and I are particularly secretive about our relationship."

"Hm." Fenris rumbles a response, his lips remaining on her skin. He adjusts the position of his hands and begins to stroke her neck with the tips of his fingers. Kestrel’s lips part on a soft moan and he notices then that her fingers are flexing. "You are the Champion of Kirkwall. Clearly nobility believe you should be bound to someone of a similar rank.”

"I’m also an apostate." She remarks, eyelids slipping closed. "Funny how that detail is so conveniently forgotten by those wanting to gain a foothold here in the Marches."

Easing his hands lower, Fenris nudges the sleeves of her robe down her arms until they pool at her elbows. He never stops moving his hands, rotating his fingers into her muscles or dragging them down her neck languidly. He feels her pulse slowly begin to increase under his touch.

"I need to finish writing these replies." Kestrel tells him. "You’re not helping." She explains, hazel eyes opening a little to meet his darker gaze.

Fenris smiles a little. “I’m not trying to help.” His voice is a low rumble. “You need to unwind.” He kisses her bottom lip, curling the fingers of one hand underneath her chin to tilt her head back and attain better purchase. She kisses him back, opening her mouth and slipping her hands into his hair.

Skilfully, he manages to pull Kestrel’s chair out from under her desk and turn it towards him only breaking contact for a moment or two. She inclines her body towards him when he drops to his knees before her. Her fingers stroke his cheek and wind through his hair. He feels light-headed, a little weak.

His breath shudders when he pulls his mouth from hers. He drags his mouth down, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck. Kestrel arcs her head to one side, her hands slip across his shoulders and over the top of his back. Her fingers memorize and trace the contours of his muscles beneath his tunic.

Fenris coaxes her arms from the sleeves of her robe and pulls the cord free so her garment falls open. His lips move downwards. He bites at the sharp angle of her collar bone and kisses the swells of her breasts, confined by her breast band. His hands know the familiar trail down her torso, over her rib cage and lower until he’s stroking her thighs and the backs of her knees with his fingertips.

Above him, Kestrel sighs and murmurs appreciatively. He can almost feel her mana tingling just underneath her skin. Fizzing and bubbling, excited by his close proximity and the temptation of the lyrium in his skin.

She ducks her head to catch his mouth, her tongue slips between his lips, rolling against his. It’s not rough or rushed, but deep and intense. Joined by her hands curving and her fingers linking behind his head, they’re both lost in something that needs to be finished.

Her letters are forgotten, and Fenris is eager to help rid her of her frustrations.

Before he gets to his feet, he tickles her fingers up her legs again, stroking the backs of her calves and her knees to follow the roundness of her thighs. He hooks his fingers underneath the hem of her small clothes and gradually drags them down. He drops them onto the floor and rises.

Fenris shoves everything off her desk in a flurry of paper and inkwells. Of quills and blotting fabric. She’s breathless and flushed when he hooks his arms underneath her legs and with a small grunt lifts her from her chair to perch her on the edge of her desk.

He’s kissing her again, biting her bottom lip and straining against his clothes. He can feel her fingers working the clasps of his tunic, and is desperate for her hands to venture lower and for the tight confines of his garments to be relinquished.

Kestrel’s legs curve around his hips to nudge him closer. He glides his fingertips over her skin, palms her breasts. He tickles her waist and abdomen where he feels her nerves jump in response to his touch.

His tunic slides off his shoulders and to the floor as he drags his hands lower. Kestrel traces the contours of his chest with swift hands, her palms skim his waist and she tugs her fingers beneath the hem of his breeches as she works them loose. He gasps a little into her mouth when she brushes his length. She meets his gasp with a soft chuckle, nipping at his lips.

Following the curve of her hip and her backside, Fenris runs his hands along the backs of Kestrel’s thighs and towards her knees. He hitches her legs up a little, bringing her close to the edge of her desk.

Her fingers work quickly, he is almost free.

Teasing his fingers through the coarse hair at the juncture of her thighs, he slips two fingers against her heat. Kestrel moans a little and her hands pause for a brief moment. Then she’s working at his breeches faster.

He touches her again. Her hips buck. She shudders as he eases his fingers inside her. She’s drenched and hot, her walls clamp around the intrusion and Fenris grasps her hip tight to hold her steady. He moves his hand slowly, moving his fingers in and out. He listens to her voice, the short breaths she takes with her lips lingering on his but not kissing him.

She works his breeches down, tugging and pushing all the while she bucks into Fenris’ hand and his deliberate touches. Her hand wraps around him, he groans and his eyes close. He touches his forehead to hers, unable to see through the haze of heat that has conjured around the two of them.

Her strokes are slow, but her grip is tight. His cock positively throbs in her hand and Fenris knows he won’t last that long. His body craves her. He needs to feel her around him, clutching him and squeezing him. Bringing him sweet relief.

Dragging his fingers out, he skims his hand up Kestrel’s torso and holds her head. He presses his thumb against her lips, eyes barely open. She kisses and bites it before drawing his thumb into her mouth. She suckles, her eyes on his. He groans and she guides his cock towards her entrance, her lips in a small grin.

He enters her with ease, her body hot and slick around him. So enticing and familiar he almost topples at that moment. Holding himself back, he begins to thrust slowly, pressing his forehead against Kestrel’s. Their breath mingles, her eyes are locked on his, and it takes all his willpower not to break her gaze by closing his eyes.

Her moans are soft and breathless. Peppered with murmurs of his name and the occasional _**"yes"**_. She leans further back, supporting herself on one hand while her other fists his hair. Fenris grabs her hand on the desk with his, squeezing her fingers. Then he grapples for her other hand and pushes it onto the desk where he holds it down. 

Kestrel’s legs hold him and guide him inside her. Her thighs clamp around his narrow hips. Fenris slows his movement. He enters her more slowly, grinding his pelvis with each deliberate drive of his hips. She trembles and her head falls back. Fenris watches her confined breasts rise and fall of quick, sharp gasps. He kisses her neck and her shoulder, biting down when her muscles squeeze around him.

The grind of his hips creates friction. Kestrel’s hips jerk and he can feel her ankles locked behind him drawing him as deep as he can go. Sweat under her palms make her hands slip back towards the edge of the desk. Fenris follows and is almost completely over her, holding her down.

"Kestrel," he moans into her skin. He licks her neck, and kisses the point where her pulse is thrumming. Fenris grunts as he begins to drive into her faster. His skin is as slick as hers. When his hips slam against her, sound rises almost drowning out their voices and their sharp, mingling breaths. She squeezes around him and he just manages hold back a whimper. "Kestrel-!"

"Fen-?" He catches her lips and cuts her off. His breath his trembling and his heart is racing. He wants to satisfy her, but he can barely hold on.

He pulls his mouth from hers, a line of saliva hanging between them. “I-I wa-want…” He grits his teeth, moaning weakly. Sweat trickles down his back, over his spine. His pace is frantic and he can feel the tight bunching in his gut.

"Go- ah—! Ahead," Kestrel pants hotly against his lips. She nuzzles his forehead with hers, eyes open and holding his gaze. "Fenris," she gasps when he’s inside her up to the hilt and rotates his hips against her pelvis. "Fe-unh-Fenris-!" Her cheeks are flushed and she bites her bottom lip. She wriggles one hand free of his grip and curves it around his ear to hold his head. Fenris presses his loose hand into the base of her back.

_"Kestrel-!"_

He lasts only a few strokes before he comes and crushes Kestrel’s lips with his under the weight of it. Fenris’ head swims and he feels almost faint while he slows the movement of his hips to a stop, still buried inside her up to the hilt.

Kestrel kisses him, grinning against his mouth and breathing fast. Her lips taste salty from her sweat, and she teases the tip of her tongue against his top lip which makes Fenris quiver and whimper gently.

Stroking her back, Fenris continues to kiss her lips and mumble soft, adoring words in Tevene against her skin. He wrestles with his breeches still around his knees until he has them around his ankles. He manages to partly step out of them and partly kick them off and then slips out of Kestrel. He doesn't move away though, instead, he hooks his arms underneath her and lifts her off her desk.

She is limp and languid, something of a dead weight against him. Her bed is only a few steps away and he makes it easily enough.

He lays her on her back and climbs on top of her. He coaxes her up towards the pillows and she rolls onto her side, nestling into his chest as they both begin to cool off.

Fenris strokes her upper arm with the tip of his fingers. Kestrel kisses his chest and the hollow of his collarbone. She hums and stretches, almost cat-like, pressing her body against his. Wrapping her up in both arms, Fenris holds her close to him and rolls them to be above her.

"You’re a terrible influence." Remarks Kestrel, winding her arms around his neck. He kisses her, grinning against her mouth.

"In what way?" He asks, his voice low.

"Distracting me from important letters."

"Letters of marriage proposals you had the intention of rejecting?"

Kestrel raises her brows, “is that a touch of jealousy I detect?”

"Do I have a reason to be jealous?" Fenris quips back, "you said yourself, you would rather kiss a nug than marry a wet Orlesian nobleman."

Smiling, she kisses him and tangles her fingers back through his hair. She strokes the back of his neck and his shoulders, drawing shapes and symbols with the tips of her fingers. She begins to rake letters and words out with her nails on his skin.

Fenris lays his head against her breasts, laying with his legs outstretched and trying to read the words she writes on him. Her name. His name. Random letters. Nothing important.

Kestrel stares up at the canopy of her bed, one arm behind her head. Fenris listens to her heartbeat slow down and looks at her after a few minutes. He notices her eyes are closed.

"Don’t fall asleep."

"Why not?"

He rises onto his elbows, “because I want to make sure you’re alright.”

Her eyes snap open. “I’m fine.” She tells him, smiling, “I’m better than fine.”

"You seemed worked up, earlier." Fenris explains, perching his chin against her breastbone. "Do you feel less frustrated?"

"I feel…" she pauses and takes a deep breath, "lucid." Fenris slides onto his elbows so he is above her again. She tilts her head to one side with a small smile. "Being Champion… I’ve been letting things weigh down on me. I needed to relax."

"And you’re feeling more relaxed?"

"Mhm-hm." She nods. When she lifts her head to kiss him, Fenris presses his lips to hers. She sighs, her mouth opening and leans back into the pillows when he wraps his arms around her shoulders. His body reawakens and Fenris pulls away before he is too far gone. Kestrel strokes his hair and tucks wild tendrils behind his ear.

"Good."

Kestrel sighs and smooths her hands over her face. “I should get back to those letters though.”

"They’ll still be there in the morning." Fenris tells her, holding her hands down against the covers. She wriggles her fingers, and feebly tries to get free. Her efforts her halfhearted and Fenris kisses softly at her neck.

"You’re being distracting." Kestrel remarks.

"That’s the point." Fenris lifts his head. He pecks a kiss on the end of her nose, lifting a brow to her short snort of derision.

"Alright," Kestrel relinquishes, sighing dramatically. "But if I cause a war because you were distracting me from replying to letters, it’s on you."

Fenris kisses her soundly, lying above her and maneuvering her hands and arms to stretch above her body into her pillows. He positions his thigh between her legs and nudges at her apex. Kestrel digs her fingers into the backs of his hands. Her body quivers.

When he smiles at her, it is slightly wolfish and wicked. “I can live with that.”


End file.
